Jo paused and raised her eyebrows as she met his gaze. "My short life? You make it sound like I'm a kid and you're an old man. You're what? Maybe twenty-seven or so?"
"Or so," he muttered, mentally adding, Give or take five hundred and thirty-three years. "So what else have you done?"
Jo shrugged, her attention back on the lock as she stuck her tools in and fiddled with the inner workings. Her voice was absent when she said, "Loads of things. What about you?"
"Loads of things," Nicholas echoed wryly, and suspected he'd worked a hell of a lot more jobs than she had.
"Are you married?"
That question surprised Nicholas, and he glanced away as the usual shaft of pain shot through him at the thought of his late wife. Oddly enough, for the first time in fifty years, the pain wasn't crushing. The memories of his Annie and losing her hurt, but not with the brutality he was used to. His gaze shifted back to Jo. She was concentrating on the lock, but paused to raise a suspicious eyebrow his way.
"Are you?" she asked.
Nicholas shook his head, but then admitted, "Widowed."
Surprise flashed across her face, and then she turned her gaze back to the lock, murmuring, "My sympathies."
"It was a long time ago," he said quietly, and for the first time, it felt like that was true. It had been fifty years since Nicholas had lost his Annie, but for most of those fifty years the loss had felt as raw as if it were just yesterday. Yet now... His gaze slid to Jo and he frowned, feeling guilt writhe in his gut at the knowledge that he was finally letting go of his grief and moving on with life.
"You must have been babies when you married if she's been dead awhile," Jo murmured, squinting into the lock as she worked her tools.
He didn't comment to that, but instead asked, "Do you have a boyfriend or-"
"Nope," she interrupted. "No time. Full-time school and full-time work kind of leaves little time for guys. Besides, I see the worst of man at work."
Nicholas raised his eyebrows at the comment. He'd thought being a rogue hunter showed him the worst of mankind, but she sounded pretty certain. "How's that?"
Jo shrugged. "Given enough alcohol, even the nicest guy is an ass. You'd be amazed how many guys come in with their girlfriends, have a spat, and then when she marches out all upset, he leaves with another girl. Then he'd show up the next week with the original girlfriend again, who's probably completely ignorant that he was messing around the week before. Or-and this one just bugs my ass," she paused to add with a disgusted sneer before finishing, "there's no spat and they're all 'coochie coo I love you,' but the minute the girlfriend heads off to the bathroom, he's hitting on other girls."
"Hmm," Nicholas murmured, thinking stories like that were enough to make him glad he was an immortal and immortals tended to be monogamous.
"And the women are just as bad," Jo continued. "I always thought it was just the guys who screwed around, but I've learned different. The gals are just smarter about it. More cautious and discreet, not as loud or obvious so that you aren't really aware they're flirting, but then they disappear to the bathroom for a bit, and return rearranging their clothes and a smirking guy following doing up his pants."
"The same women whose men are hitting on other women while they're gone?" Nicholas asked curiously, thinking perhaps that explained the men's behavior. Maybe they had some sort of agreement, he thought, but Jo shook her head.
"That's the weird thing. As far as I can tell, cheat ers rarely hook up with cheaters. It's like they recognize their own and avoid them, because Lord knows a cheater wouldn't want to be cheated on," she said wryly. "It seems like one is always faithful and the other does the cuckolding... Although it does occasionally happen where they're both stepping out on the other. I prefer seeing that. I figure they deserve each other."
"It sounds..." Nicholas hesitated. It sounded like her job at the bar had given her a very dim view of her fellow man and woman.
"Got it!" Jo exclaimed.
Nicholas had heard the click before her triumphant announcement and now watched with wonder as she withdrew her tools and stood to pull the door open. She did so with a little flourish, waving her hand and bowing as she gestured him out. It made him smile, but instead of stepping out and moving past her, he stood in front of her and waited for her to glance up before reaching for her, saying, "It seems now I owe you a thank-you."
Jo blinked in surprise. She'd expected Nicholas to rush out and flee as fast as his feet would carry him the moment she had the cell door open, but instead he caught her arms and drew her forward, his head descending toward hers. She didn't resist. Thank-yous were nice... at least with Nicholas. She already knew that and wasn't adverse to enjoying more passionate thank-yous with him, she thought, and then his mouth was covering hers and she was overwhelmed by the same amazing passion she'd experienced earlier.
Damn, he was a fine kisser, definitely worthy of the title rogue, Jo thought, letting the tools she held drop from her fingers so that she could slide her hands around his back. She hardly heard the varying clangs as the tools hit the hard concrete. Her mind was consumed by the waves of passion building and rolling through her, each one slamming against her brain with more strength as his mouth devoured hers. She wasn't aware of Nicholas moving, but suddenly felt the cold metal of bars against her back and briefly opened her eyes to see that he'd backed her up against the cell door opposite his, and then her eyes closed again on a moan as he pinned her there with his body, grinding his hips against her.
When his hands cupped her br**sts through her top, Jo arched her back, pressing herself into the touch. Her hands moved to cover his, and she squeezed them encouragingly before reaching to run her own hands over his chest, wishing he wasn't wearing the shirt and she could touch his naked flesh. It was a rather startling thought for Jo. She wasn't a prude or a virgin, but she hardly knew this guy. In fact, other than his name, the fact that he was a widower and that he'd risked himself to help her, she didn't know a thing about him. But her body was acting like it knew him very well, or wanted to. She wanted to. She wanted to know every naked inch of him. She wanted-
Jo's thoughts died on a gasp as Nicholas suddenly tugged her T-shirt upward, baring her br**sts. She wasn't big on bras. They all had ribs and wires and all sorts of nasty little things to dig into a body. Other than wearing them to work, she tended to avoid them and hadn't worn one tonight. Jo was very glad she hadn't when Nicholas covered one naked orb with his hand and then broke their kiss to bend his head and claim the other with his mouth.
"Oh God," Jo gasped, curling her fingers into the hair at the back of his head. This was... this was... She gave up trying to think what this was when his teeth and tongue came into action, his teeth catching the tender nipple and holding it as his tongue rasped over the sensitive nub.
Damn he was good, Jo thought, and she, who had never had a one-night stand in her life, decided they needed to move into one of the cells and put the cot to good use. Now, she thought as his leg suddenly slid between both of hers, rubbing against her and raising their passion to a whole new level. Growling with need, Jo tugged at his hair, demanding he stop what he was doing and kiss her before she absolutely exploded right there on the spot.
Nicholas let her nipple slip from his mouth and lifted his head at once to claim her lips, but his kiss was less than soothing. His tongue thrust into her mouth in imitation of what she was beginning to desperately hope would follow on that cot, and his hand replaced his mouth at her breast, his thumb and finger plucking gently and then rubbing soothingly.
"Nicholas," Jo gasped when he broke the kiss to run his mouth along her cheek to her ear. "I need... ohh," she moaned as he rubbed his leg against her more firmly. "Yes... I... what's that?"